Harry Potter and the Deadly American
by forestfire18
Summary: Harry's interest grows in a new girl at school-6th
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: This is my idea for the sixth book or a blog-ish thing of the sixth year. I'm sure J.K. Rowling would beg to differ and I say now that I am not her.

Author's Note: This is really exciting. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic. My best friend May Liza writes really awesome Harry Potter fics and I'm proud to start now. Here it goes!

Chapter one: First Glimpses

"Sixth year..." the words were yet another crisp gust of wind on his tongue. Being the start for everyone including Harry Potter at Hogwarts, there was a bustle of mystical and excited life around him.

Hermione Granger tripped on the last couple of steps getting off of the train but managed to steer her stumbling self toward the people she thought least likely to mind being grabbed a hold of. Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend, and Harry were nearest and first choice.

"Sorry, sorry, I lost my footing," she apologized, pushing back her ginger-colored hair.

"It's 'kay," Ron pretended to grumble, looking at Hermione and then at the ground.

"It's fine, Hermione. Are you ready for our frightful, second-to-last year?" Harry grinned.

"Of course! Well, in a way..." Harry tried to imagine what fourteen books he hadn't managed to zip through this summer like his prepared summer.

Like every year at school for growing witches and wizards, no matter how fresh each new beginning felt, there was nothing like being a first year.

Ron clucked his tongue in mock condescension at the gibbering first years that could almost run through his long legs.

"I don't believe we were ever that bloody small! Do you, mate?" Ron commented, nudging Harry.

"Probably," Harry laughed, "you have to be tiny and unknowing to really stand quivering before Hagrid." Hermione smiled at this, Hagrid, the groundskeeper, Magical Beasts professor, and "Gentle Giant" was as dear to the three of them as a kind grandmother (or grandfather you might suppose).

It was then that Harry noticed a taller, less awkward figure getting into one of the boats with a group of first years, cloaked in the strong yet gentle palette of the sea.

He was just about to point out the figure to Ron and Hermione when they pulled him toward the carriages drawn by the regal and ferocious thestrals that those that hadn't witnessed death could not see.

Harry tried to keep his eye on the figure, especially when the hood of the cloak fell down to reveal a proud-looking girl with chocolate-brown hair streaming over her shoulders. Harry hadn't been sure if he had ever gotten over Cho, but at this moment he knew he had.


	2. Chapter 2 Why?

Chapter 2-Why?!

The time fluttered by like the things in Harry's stomach- what were they called? Butterflies. Right. Butterflies in Harry's stomach. Fairly soon, all the students were gathered in the Great Hall. All the students who already knew their places were seated at the long tables and the first years were at the front, awaiting their fate.

Their names were called alphabetically by Professor McGonagall, an older witch with glasses far down on her pointed nose, the ability to transform herself into a cat, and a discerning gaze. She also happened to be the Head Mistress of Gryffindor, the crimson and gold lions, and those true of heart.

When she reached the V's- Violet, Gladys, the older-looking girl finally stepped up. Harry thought he heard "Violet glass" and for an instant the image of shards of a purple bottle lying in the sand filled his mind. He didn't know why. Then it was just the girl. She appeared to be about 16, Harry's age, with flashing eyes and a smile he couldn't quite understand. When the Sorting Hat was placed on her head it immediately began mumbling to itself. Gladys closed her eyes and crossed her arms. She was the only "first year" who didn't say a word or even look nervous.

Finally, "Slytherin!" the hat proclaimed. No. Slytherin? Harry thought. Why? The girl didn't look surprised to be joining the cunning and often cruel silver and green snakes. The Slytherin table broke into wild applause and Harry saw Draco Malfoy's face. He didn't look malicious or vicious or cold. He just looked happy. And almost…innocent? Wow.

Author's Note: This chapter is not finished. Due to technical difficulties I cannot retrieve the rest of it or hesitate to post chapter three. Don't let your brains blow up with confusion dearies! -bea


	3. Chapter 3 You Fancy HIM?

Chapter 3- You fancy HIM??

Harry let out air through his lower lip and it blew his tousled bangs off his forehead. He didn't have double Potions, but he did have double Defense Against the Dark Arts and he had just found out from Seamus Finnigan that Professor Snape, Headmaster of Slytherin, was teaching both for the meantime.

Snape had finally gotten what he wanted. In more ways than one, Harry thought bitterly. The two boys who had tortured Severus Snape when he attended Hogwarts, Sirius Black and James Potter, were dead. Would this pattern continue to Remus Lupin? If Harry had anyone left, it would be him.

Harry was devastated by his loss of the previous year but he also felt embarrassed. Those who knew would make eye contact and then twist their face into that of a heartbroken rabbit and look at the floor. Harry didn't need it. Well, he had to admit it, he needed Ron and Hermione, and the love of the Weasleys.

After the mild temperament of Hagrid in Care of Magical Creatures, heading down to the dungeons for Snape's Potions was like the shock of ice cold water poured on one's head.

When Harry got in, Malfoy was taking a seat at one of the three-seaters towards the wall, and Crabbe and Goyle were bumbling over to join him.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Malfoy snapped. As Gladys stepped into the room, Malfoy took her hand and led her towards his seat.

"Gentlemanly behavior. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Five points for Slytherin." Snape declared with a slight smirk on his sallow face. Gladys beamed, she was more radiant than ever, even in the gloom of the dungeons.

"I wonder if Crabbe and Goyle are clever enough to feel that slap in the face," Ron whispered to Harry with a straight face. Harry sniggered in spite of himself.

"Mr. Potter. What do you find so funny? You will not be sitting with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley today, but with the polite Mr. Malfoy and the lovely Miss Violet."

Harry was shocked. And then angry, or was he pleased? He honestly couldn't tell. He hesitantly took his place next to Gladys. She gave him a narrowed-eyed, contemplative look, but it wasn't contemptuous. As for Malfoy, he snarled at Harry and began writing down the ingredients on the board with his quill a little too hard; he even made a hole in the paper.

Gladys was standing chatting with Pansy Parkinson in the hall. Harry found her mesmerizing. He noticed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, best friends and Gryffindors, walk by and turn up their noses. Harry found that his immediate response was- "they're just jealous!"- now the most desired girl was not Cho Chang of Ravenclaw whom the proud lions could relate to, now it was a SLYTHERIN!

"So, do you fancy him?" Pansy asked knowingly.

"Him? Oh do you mean the band? Yes, I love them!"

"What?!" Pansy asked, the knowing look wiped from her face.

"Oh! Well HIM is sort of a pop/Goth/metal band in America. They're very good. The lead singer is… what is it in Germany? Über fine." Pansy, not to appear ignorant, gathered her wits about her and retained her smug expression.

"Oh, yes. Muggle, American music, isn't it?" Gladys appeared wounded, and that was a rare case on her face-

"Well, actually that's the interesting thing. The lead singer of HIM, his father is a warlock!" Pansy looked taken aback, then touched Gladys' shoulder with a smirk.

"That means he's a mudblood then, dear." _Dear? Dear?!_

"What's that?"

"Well a mudblood has dirty blood, not pure blood like us. Part muggle!"

"But I live with muggles," Gladys put in, "their ways are inferior but they aren't so bad. They have some wonderful performing arts."

"I see."

This conversation gave Harry hope that finally a Slytherin wouldn't call Hermione a mudblood or hiss as they walked by.

"What I meant was," Pansy continued with attempted patience, "do you fancy _Draco Malfoy_!"

"Oh!" Gladys laughed prettily, "Wow! Well, I guess so, he's smart and nice and too bad to look at either!" Pansy did a sickening yay-we're-friends-face and grabbed Gladys' hand as they scurried to their next class. Well maybe not scurried, more like glided for Gladys Violet. Harry ran to catch up with Ron and tell him what he'd heard.


	4. AN for HP fic please read

AN: I am afraid to inform anyone who is reading this that I cannot retrieve the end of chapter two but I will give you a back round check. Gladys has transferred from Hibiscus Mortimus, an underground school for witches and wizards with most of the same things as Hogwarts. (It is in Florida therefore she doesn't have an accent.) Gladys has grown up around muggles and so doesn't have the same snobbery of most pure-blood Slytherins. She has a good relationship with Dumbledore. Be prepared for her dark past! -bea


	5. Chapter 4 Fire and Light

AN: To whoever said this, yes this story is weird, and I will be sure to keep it that way. Thank you!

Chapter Five- Fire and Light

Fire and light. Gryffindor common room. They were all alone. One traced the lines on the other's palm, though she didn't know what it meant. Probably only, "Love". Old habits and ideas die hard and it would be hard for their friends and siblings to accept that they were together. They were too young to know anyway.

The fingers on that palm ran through the gingery, frizzy hair and they leaned back into the crimson chair. Her painted toenails glistened and the moment was entirely perfect.

"modern romance" by the yeah yeah yeahs. look it up. play it.

At least, it was perfect, until the door could be heard opening and Lavender Brown traipsed briskly into the room, not accompanied by Parvati Patil. She stopped by the fire to dramatically yawn and stretched.

"Gawd, I'm so tired. Aren't... you two...going...to bed? Wait. Common room too small? You have to share a chair?" she ran a hand absentmindedly through her close cropped blonde hair and stared at them, waiting for a reply.

"Palm reading!" Hermione cried, "Yes that's it. I was teaching Ginny palm reading."

"Yes," Ginny piped up, although not so loudly, "she was teaching me that."

"But you hated Professor Trelawney," Lavender insisted.

"Well , thanks for the lesson, I'm pretty tired right now so I'm going to go to bed. Yeah," Hermione hurried out and Crookshanks padded behind her. With the marmalade and light gone from the room, the spell was broken and Ginny was left to fend for herself against Lavender's questions. 


End file.
